


You Broke My Heart

by 13starbuck42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Episode: s06e03 Triangle, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 12:44:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13547586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13starbuck42/pseuds/13starbuck42
Summary: Scully asks Mulder to tell her a story and gets more than she bargained for.  Written for the "you broke my heart" tumblr angst prompt.





	You Broke My Heart

Scully brings her legs up on the couch, stretching out to wedge her toes under Mulder’s thigh. She tips back her Shiner Bock, enjoying the last pull, and sets the empty bottle on the coffee table. 

“It’s getting late,” she says.

“You’re free to go, Scully,” he shrugs. “Or I can get you another beer…?” He’s already on his way to the fridge, and she makes no move to leave. 

Mulder shucks the caps from two bottles, hands one to Scully and sets one on the coffee table before sinking deep into the worn leather cushions. 

She notices that he’s sitting closer to her, now. She doesn’t have to stretch to reach him with her toes. She’s three beers deep - about to be four - and feeling bold, so she settles her feet in his lap. He rests one hand across her ankles, while the thumb of the other strokes deep lines into her arches. She lays back into the pillow propped on arm of the couch, throws her forearm over her eyes, and demands: “Tell me a story, Mulder.” The first sip of her fresh Shiner is cold and crisp, but she knows she should slow down so she sets the full bottle next to his. 

He chuckles. “What, like a ghost story?” 

“Mulderrr, no. C’mon.” She playfully wiggles her feet in his hands. 

“Okay, okay, okay. Once upon a time —“ 

Giggling lightly, she reaches up and swats at him before he can continue. “I’ve had enough of ghost stories and fairy tales, Mulder.”

“Well, then you tell me, Scully. What did you have in mind?”

She knows exactly what she wants to hear. “Tell me about the Bermuda Triangle, about the Queen Anne.”

“Oh, now you believe me?!” he teases. 

“I believe you thought you were on the a luxury liner n the middle of the ocean in 1939, Mulder…”

“Yeah, well, I was.”

Scully nods, raising an eyebrow from under her forearm, encouraging him to continue. 

“You were there, so was Skinner, and Kersh, and Cancer Man.”

“But what was it like, Mulder? The ship, 1939...”

Mulder pulls a blanket from the back of the couch, drapes it over them, and returns to massaging Scully’s feet.

“There was a party, with a live band - they were playing that Louis Armstrong song, ‘Jeepers Creepers,’ I think, and everyone was dancing. Balloons, champagne, fancy clothes...”

“Mmmm,” Scully sighs, low in her throat. His hands are traveling back and forth between her toes and her calves now. She’s warm and comfortable, and she thinks maybe she’ll fall asleep right here if he keeps talking and touching. 

“Anyway, you were there. Your hair was all pinned up, and you were wearing a very sexy shade of red lipstick,” he smirks, remembering it clearly, and squeezes her feet, “and you had this dress, this red satin dress…” he feels a familiar twitch in his groin, shifts his hips and clears his throat. “You looked fantastic, Scully,” he says quietly. “So strong and confident and beautiful. You always have, to me.” 

Silence. His hands are still. 

She lifts her forearm from her eyes, pulls herself up to look at him. He turns to face her, tucks a wayward copper tress behind her ear, and takes a deep breath. 

“I meant what I said, Scully.” 

“Well then I guess I’m in the market for a red satin dress and some new lipstick, huh?” she dips her head, smiling to mask her fluttering nerves, plays with the blanket in her lap. Her pulse is racing.

He shakes his head weakly. “Scully…” 

“We found you floating in the Atlantic, Mulder. When you came to you were going on and on about the Bermuda Triangle and Nazis and Thor’s Hammer. You were pretty heavily drugged…” she trails off, defeated. This is not how she imagined this conversation… She can tell she’s hurt him, and it makes her miserable. 

“You broke my heart.” 

Mulder pauses to look at her; they’re both uncomfortable now. “I… I never brought it up again, never said anything about it because… well, shit, because I was embarrassed, okay? And hurt. I needed to get over the fact that you don’t believe me, you don’t share that, that... feeling.” He smiles sadly, almost painfully, and the sigh he releases is heavy. He looks at her, so small and adorable and strong and wonderful, and his heart breaks all over again.

“I meant what I said. But you walked away and you broke my heart, Scully...” 

“Tell me again, Mulder.”

Scully looks up at him, meets his eyes. She presses her hand to his chest, just over his heart; she can feel it pounding, the rhythm matching hers. 

“Tell me again,” she whispers.

He hesitates, disbelieving, desperate for this to be real and not some cruel cosmic joke. But when he searches her face, fixes his eyes on hers, he sees truth and hope and light. 

“Scully?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Mulder.”

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t particularly angsty, and I’m sorry about that, but once I got started I couldn’t stop. You know how it is. I love feedback, please feel free to leave some for me!


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